Contract: Sicko (Sei Assassin Thriller Book 2)

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Contract: Sicko (Sei Assassin Thriller Book 2) Page 18

by Ty Hutchinson


  “Great. I wrote it down.” I knew Kostas was trying to keep the situation upbeat, but I wasn’t in the mood to be handled, let alone coddled.

  “You didn’t write it down did you?”

  “No.”

  “Well, you should. If you want, I can email you a list of must-have dishes while there.”

  “Yum naem… I’ll look for that the next time I feel the need to eat.”

  “You’ll thank me. In the meantime, I’ll continue to poke around on Amina. Stay safe, Sei.”

  I hung up wondering if Akil had really sent me on a wild goose chase. There was no way to know. All I could do was follow through and see if anything came of my search for the nurse.

  Chapter 62

  My next stop was Sukhumvit Hospital. It was short distance from where I had eaten lunch in Thonglor—a seven-minute ride on a motorbike taxi to be exact.

  The hospital was smaller than the others, just a tall singular building with obstetrics located on the fifth floor. I exited the elevator and didn’t find the chaos I had experienced at Samitivej Hospital.

  It had a modern feel, probably recently built or, at the very least, renovated. Neutral tones graced the walls, furniture, and carpeting. It was quieter as there wasn’t much of crowd that day. The staff spoke in hushed tones, and the coolness of the air conditioning was refreshing.

  I approached the reception desk for the floor and proceeded to give the attendant my insurance story. Her hands were stacked on one another in front of her, and she had a pleasant smile. She listened attentively, nodding every so often. I couldn’t help but think my experience here would be similar to the one I had at Bumrungrad. My spirits were lifted, cautiously.

  And then she opened her mouth.

  “Sorry, I’m not able to answer that question.”

  Is she not authorized to give out this information, or did she simply not understand my question? “I just need to know if she’s employed here. If the answer is yes, I’ll contact the correct administrator to connect with Amina.”

  “If you don’t know if she works here, why did you come here?”

  I was beginning to think the woman grasped about twenty percent of what I said. “As I stated earlier, she no longer works at the hospital we have on file, but we know she’s still working in Bangkok. We’re just not sure which hospital. It’s my job to find that hospital so that we can contact her.”

  She smiled and said nothing.

  “Am I making sense?”

  She nodded.

  “But you’re not planning on saying anything, right?”

  Her smile widened, and mine retracted.

  Plan B was to stop staffers, away from the reception desk. I thanked the lady and asked where the nearest bathroom was located.

  “At the end of the hall,” she said, pointing.

  I headed in that direction until I was out of her sightline and began discreetly intercepting staffers. The first three shook their heads—no, they hadn’t heard of that name. The fourth person said it sounded familiar but couldn’t be sure. She walked away before I could press her any further. I received two more nos and another yes.

  A woman with a stack of manila folders held tightly against her chest approached me. Her eyes were focused on the door leading to the women’s restroom. A look of determination covered her face. I’ll catch her on the way out. She’ll be more willing to chat then.

  A few minutes later, she exited the restroom with a much more pleasant expression. “Excuse me,” I said, quickly reciting my story with a smile.

  “Jelassi?” she asked.

  “Yes, Amina Jelassi.”

  She pursed her lips, and her eyes shot up to the left. “Are you sure her name is Amina?”

  “It’s what I have in my records.”

  “There is a nurse here whose last name is Jelassi, but her first name isn’t Amina. It’s Sarra.”

  I inhaled sharply and straightened up. Could it be? Had I found her? “Oh, maybe Amina is her middle name. She’s Tunisian. Has an olive complexion.” I had no idea what Amina looked like, but I figured I could get close with her Tunisian background.

  “Yes, I think you are talking about Sarra Jelassi, but she’s not from Tunisia. I think she mentioned France.”

  I found her! “Yes, I believe she immigrated to Thailand from France. I think this is the person I’m looking for. Is she working today?”

  “I don’t think so. I haven’t seen her, but that doesn’t mean she’s not. I’m not a nurse. I work in Patient Payments.”

  I glanced at the plastic badge that was clipped to the lapel of her uniform.

  “Preya, could you please check and see if she’s scheduled to work? Better yet, a home address would be wonderful.”

  She shook her head, and crinkles formed near the bridge of her nose. “I’m sorry, but I can’t give you that information. It’s against policy.”

  I discreetly removed three hundred euros from my pant pocket and placed it in her palm. “It’s such a small favor. I just need a home address, and I can visit her there.”

  She opened her hand enough to see the euros and then looked around to assure herself that nobody had seen me place it there. “You have to come back at nine p.m. when my shift is finished. Just ask for me at reception, and I’ll come and meet you.”

  My smile returned. My heart fluttered. I had finally taken a step closer to finding Amina.

  Chapter 63

  It was nearly eight p.m. when Amina finished with her day’s worth of chores. Even though it was her day off from the hospital, it wasn’t a day off from Houda. She had spent the morning cleaning the room and washing four loads of laundry. She then made a trip to the market, ran errands for the family, and spent the remainder of the afternoon babysitting the children while Houda and her husband went to the cinema.

  When the lazy couple returned, so did the demands. “Something cold to drink.” “I need a foot massage.” “Why isn’t dinner ready?”

  Houda always expected a more substantial dinner on Amina’s day off, as she didn’t have to work and therefore had more time to prepare. By the time Amina cleaned the dishes and bathed each child, she was worn out. It had been non-stop from the moment she woke at seven that morning.

  With all three children busy playing video games on their tablets, Houda consumed by her soap opera on TV, and the husband snoring on the bed, Amina excused herself and headed up to the roof.

  Once there, Amina lifted the hem of her shirt and removed the bottle of peach tea from the waistband of her jeans; she had purchased it while grocery shopping. It was on these days that she really felt the need for her tiny pleasure. Serving the family took everything out of her. She relished her time spent at the hospital, away from them.

  Amina took a seat in the spot between the two water reservoirs and savored the first sip. She pulled her hair back into a ponytail and fastened it with a scrunchie. There was a nice breeze that night, which helped to diminish the day’s stored heat as it rose from the roof. Even when the wind was absent, she wasn’t deterred. Better on a hot roof than in a cold room.

  She stared up above and found her favorite constellation, the Southern Cross. A smile formed as her eyes traced the outline. Amina believed locating it every night was an omen for good luck—a sign that she had a better future ahead of her.

  Lost in the sparkles above, Amina didn’t notice the man right away, not until he moved away from the entranceway to the rooftop. She perked up. Rarely did anyone from the building come up to the roof that late at night. There were no clothes to be collected from the clothesline.

  “I’m sorry,” the man said. “I didn’t mean to disturb you.”

  “It’s okay. I don’t own the roof.” She peered at the man’s face as the moonlight gave it life. He didn’t look familiar, so she stood up to leave.

  “No, please. Don’t leave,” he said, motioning for her to remain seated. “The sky is too beautiful and the night still young. And to be honest, it’ll be refreshing to chat
in English, as my Thai isn’t that great. That is, if you don’t mind.”

  He had a gentle smile and dressed nicely, and there wasn’t anything threatening about his demeanor. Amina relaxed her posture. “Are you new to the building?”

  “I’m thinking about moving here, but I wanted to see the view from the roof, as I like to look at the stars. I find it calms me.” He stood a few feet away from her, head craned back as he stared upward. “You share the same interest?” he asked, still looking up.

  “I do...” Amina let her words trail briefly before speaking again. “You’re not from Bangkok.”

  “No, I’m not. You mind?” he asked as he eyed an overturned bucket.

  “Not at all.”

  He positioned the bucket next to her and sat. Amina’s nose picked up a faint citrus scent, either cologne or deodorant. She couldn’t tell.

  “I’m originally from Tibilsi, in Georgia,” he said. “You heard of this country?”

  “I have. It’s a long way from here.”

  The man let out chuckle. “I visited Thailand many years ago and always wanted to come back. An opportunity to live and work here came up, and it was an easy decision for me. You don’t look like you’re from Thailand either.”

  “I’m Tunisian. I have a story similar to yours.”

  “Well, I wish us to both have better lives here.”

  Amina smiled. “What makes you think I came here for a better life?”

  The man inhaled deeply before turning his gaze back to the stars. “Everyone is looking for a better life. You and I have had to look a bit farther.”

  Chapter 64

  I visited two more hospitals out of due diligence before I called it a day. I was sure that I had found Amina and that soon I would have an address for her. When I returned to my room, I thought of calling Kostas for an update but let that thought fade. The heat had worn me out, and the call of my bed was too much to ignore.

  When I woke, I took another shower and then changed into jeans, a T-shirt, and trainers. It was eight thirty p.m. when I headed toward Sukhumvit Hospital. It was a fifteen-minute taxi ride, but I wanted to arrive early so as not to miss Preya before she left work.

  When I arrived to obstetrics, a different lady sat at the reception desk, which I was thankful for. Having to explain my presence again to the statue that sat there earlier wasn’t something I was looking forward to.

  “I’m here to see Preya Suttiwong.”

  The lady behind the desk nodded before picking up the phone and making a call. “Please have a seat,” she said after hanging up. “She’ll be here soon.”

  I sat on one of the beige sofas, away from the desk, and waited. A few minutes later, I spotted Preya prancing down the hall. She had a unique walk, very light on her feet, almost as if she were walking on a catwalk. She was beautiful, of course, with her fair skin, pink lips, and perfectly manicured eyebrows. All the women in the hospital kept their hair tied back into a bun. On Preya, doing so only further accented the delicate curve of her neck. She held a smile as she approached, which was hopeful.

  “I said to come at nine,” she whispered once she reached me. “You’re early.”

  I looked at my watch. It was five minutes to nine. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want to miss you.”

  “You must wait until I’m finished. I’ll be back.”

  For a brief second, I thought I was in Germany.

  “Wait,” I said as I grabbed her arm gently. “Do you have the information?”

  “No, because the person who is helping me told me to come back at nine, when her shift is finished.”

  “Okay. I’ll be here waiting.”

  It was twenty after nine when Preya returned. The thought had crossed my mind that maybe she wouldn’t return. With Akil dead, Amina was my only hope at keeping the lead alive. It created nervousness in me that I hadn’t experienced much. It had me expecting the worst: information that wasn’t actionable.

  Preya handed me a piece of paper. “She lives in On Nut. Do you know where that is?”

  “I’m new to Bangkok,” I said as I looked at the address.

  “Take the Skytrain to the On Nut station. It’s two stops. Very easy. From there you can take a motorbike taxi to Soi 20 on On Nut Road.”

  Her instructions seemed simple enough, and the name of the apartment complex was MT Living. I didn’t think it would be problematic. I stood and thanked Preya. As I was about to leave, she placed a hand on my shoulder, stopping me. A tiny crinkle formed on her forehead.

  “There was another person asking for Sarra… I mean, Amina.”

  In an instant an empty feeling erupted in the pit of my stomach as the joy-high I had been on was sucked from me. “Who?”

  “I don’t know. The person who gave me her information said another person had asked for her address about thirty minutes ago.”

  He found her!

  Chapter 65

  “So, do you like what you see?” Amina asked the man.

  “Huh?”

  “I thought you were deciding if you wanted to live in the building.”

  “Oh, yes, yes,” he said, nodding. “I think this place will suit my needs. Do many people come up here at night?”

  She shook her head. “During the day, they dry their clothes on the lines over there. At night, it’s just me. You’re the first person I’ve seen here at this hour.”

  “That’s good to know.”

  “Why do you say that?” she asked with a tiny chuckle. “You don’t like people?”

  “When I’m working I don’t like people around.”

  “Oh?” She pulled her chin back. “Now I’m curious. What type of work do you do?”

  “I find people.”

  Her brows dipped. “You mean missing people? Like children who run away from home?”

  “The reason why they’re missing isn’t of importance. Finding them is.”

  “Are you good at your job?”

  “Yes, I am. I’ve found everyone I was hired to find.” The man stretched his legs out in front of him and shifted his weight on the bucket. Amina noticed that he hadn’t removed the knapsack from his back.

  “I’m impressed. I’ve never met someone with this type of job. What do they call it in the movies,” she said, snapping her fingers, “a private eye?”

  “I’ve been referred to as one.”

  “Do you also look for bad people, someone who’s running from a crime?”

  “There have been a few.”

  “Aren’t you afraid of getting hurt?” she asked. “I imagine it can be a dangerous job.”

  “I’m not the one who gets hurt.”

  Amina’s eyebrows shot up. She screwed the cap back on the empty tea bottle and placed it next to her chair. “Earlier you mentioned that you already have a job here. So are you looking for someone in Bangkok?”

  “I am.”

  “How long does it take you to find people? Days? Months?”

  “It depends.” The man glanced at his watch. “Let’s see. I arrived in Bangkok this morning,” the man clucked his tongue a few times, “and it took me about ten hours to find this person.”

  “You already found them?”

  “I believe I have,” he said, turning his head toward her.

  “What happens now? You return this person?”

  “No, no. My employer does not want her back.” The smile on his face disappeared, and his eyes faded into two black pits.

  “Her?”

  “Yes, her. The person I’m looking for is you, Amina Jelassi.”

  Chapter 66

  Amina shot out of her chair with enough force to send the molded plastic piece tumbling backward, but the man was quicker. He caught her right arm above the elbow and yanked her back into his arms. His hand clamped down around her mouth and muffled her cries for help. Short bursts of his hot breath blasted the side of her right cheek as he held her tightly against his body. She tried to wiggle out of his grasp, twisting her body in every direction,
but his hold remained firm and secure.

  She continued to fight as he dragged her back between the two water reservoirs, lifting her high enough off the roof that the tips of her shoes barely grazed the surface. Kicking at his shins seemed to produce no effect; the blows glanced off of him effortlessly. She attempted to smash her head back into his, but he kept the side of his face pressed tightly against hers.

  In the shadows behind the reservoirs, it was pitch black.

  “Who are you?” she finally managed, still struggling.

  “I’m the assassin sent to end your life.” Mdivani clucked his tongue. “It’s a shame. Your life here looked promising.”

  She tried to speak again, but his grip around her diaphragm had tightened. Mdivani loosened it a tad. He was always interested in the dying’s last words.

  “Why? I did nothing to deserve this,” she said between breaths.

  “I think you know that’s not entirely true. You remember don’t you?”

  Amina shook her head.

  “You helped with the kidnapping of a little baby.”

  “I didn’t know they were going to do that. The doctor—he was responsible.”

  “You’re right, and now he’s dead.”

  “Was that your wife, the one who gave birth? Are you here seeking revenge?”

  Mdivani laughed. “You have it all wrong. I’ve been hired by the man who planned the kidnapping. I’m here to make sure no one ever finds out what happened.”

  Tears flowed down Amina’s cheeks, and her voice cracked when she spoke. “I didn’t tell anybody. I won’t tell anyone. I promise.”

  “That’s not how this works. I’m not here to ask you to be quiet.”

  Amina’s sobbing grew louder, forcing him to cup his hand around her mouth again. She choked on her breaths. His body heat fueled her own. Her neck became slick with sweat, and the back of her shirt felt damp. She began to tire, her lungs beginning to burn. Her eyes searched for an escape, a way to signal for help. There must be one. She simply couldn’t give up. Not now. Not ever.

 

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